


Secret

by nerigby96



Series: Insult to Injury [7]
Category: Martin and Lewis
Genre: Birthday Party, Goodbyes, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22338703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerigby96/pseuds/nerigby96
Summary: 1945
Relationships: Jerry Lewis/Dean Martin
Series: Insult to Injury [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1565770
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13





	Secret

“Mazel tov!”

The cork pops and clatters away; someone shrieks – not hit, but almost – and then there’s laughter, cheering, a fizzing white stream filling a glass. Someone’s playing Happy Birthday on the piano. The kid’s blushing, beaming, overwhelmed. Dean sees tears brimming, but the kid collects himself. He clutches the glass someone thrusts at him.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I gotta get up early. The train—”

“One glass won’t hurt, Jer.” He clinks his own against the kid’s. “L’chaim.”

Jerry grins. “We’ll make a Jew of you yet, boy.” He makes a _snip-snip_ gesture and cackles, dodging Dean’s swipe.

Dean didn’t realise quite how popular the kid was here. Maybe he just never paid enough attention. But it seems everyone knows him, likes him, wants to say goodbye. One of the dancers pecks his cheek, and this prompts everyone else to form an orderly queue. The kid is showered with kisses from everyone: beautiful dancers, cute waitresses, guys in the band, even the busboys, who fall dramatically at his feet as though he were a king, and they his devoted slaves.

Dean spots a fella whose name escapes him. Another comic, he thinks. He’s trying to back out of the room, but Jerry makes a beeline for him. The poor guy breaks for the door, crying out, laughing, but the kid’s too quick; he tackles him, kisses him hard on the mouth to the delight of his audience.

Sonny, a little merry on the bubbly and the beautiful girl who’s decided to hang off his arm for the evening, takes the kid’s head in his hands and plants a loud kiss on his forehead. The beautiful girl is even friendlier, leaving in her wake a red lipstick mark on the corner of the kid’s mouth. He turns scarlet and, to save face, pitches a mock swoon into Dean’s waiting arms.

The kid holds his hand all the way to the room. Dean doesn’t mind.

He sits heavily on the bed. “’M tired, boy.”

“Better get some sleep, Jer. C’mon.” He kneels before him, helps him out of his shoes.

“Everyone’s so friendly, Dean.” He yawns. “Sonny’s girl kissed me right on the mouth, you see that?” He chuckles to himself. “Patti won’t like that.”

“Well, we just won’t tell Patti.”

“No secrets, Dean,” he says, admonishing. “She’s my _wife_ , ya know.”

“Aw, c’mon, Jer, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He pats his thigh. “You’re the birthday boy.”

“Mm.” His fingers work at Dean’s tie.

“ _Ehi_. What goes on here?”

“Unwrapping,” he says and dissolves into mad giggles. “’M the birthday boy, Dean.”

“Ah, I see. You know, Jer, I don’t think you’ll like what’s inside.”

“Wrong.” He taps lightly at Dean’s forehead. “You’re smart, Dean, but you’re stupid sometimes.” He’s got the tie open and plays with it, sliding it back and forth beneath the collar. “Sonny and his girl and those others too. They kissed me, alla them.” He trails off; Dean imagines he can hear the kid frown. “ _You_ didn’t kiss me, Dean.”

There’s a long pause. Dean thinks the kid might drop it, let go his tie and climb under the covers without another word. Maybe he’ll be a little sad in the dark, after Dean’s gone; he thinks the kid gets sad a lot when he’s not there, and shoves that thought away before it gets too much. But then, his voice so low and soft he might have dreamed it: “Will you kiss me now, Dean?” The tie slides free, lost in the dark. “Just for goodnight.”

“Jer, I—”

“Lemme kiss _you_ , then.” His hands have found Dean’s collar; two fingers slide and fuss. “Just once, Dean.” There’s a soft yawn in the dark. “For goodnight, Dean.” Another pause, and then: “For goodbye.”

Dean flinches at the word, glad of the darkness. He wets his lips. “Then you’ll go to bed?”

“Mm.” His thumb works the top button free, slips against Dean’s throat.

“You’ll go right to sleep?”

“Mm-mm.” He’s pulling at Dean’s shirt, sleepy, weak tugs. Asking.

“Promise you’ll be a good boy?”

A sweet, soft sigh in the dark; Dean shudders.

“Promise,” Jerry breathes.

Dean swallows; it clicks in his dry throat. “All right, kid. For goodnight.” He can’t make his mouth say the other thing.

The kid’s hands find his face in the dark. He gently coaxes Dean to tilt his head upwards, and in the second before it happens, Dean feels short, hot breaths on his lips.

He’s a good boy. One chaste peck is all he gives, and then his hands are gone, too. The kid pulls up his legs and gets under the covers. Dean plays Dad and tucks him in, finds the tip of his nose to tweak. The kid laughs and tries to nip his fingers. Then he lies still, and Dean takes the opportunity to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’ll slip the key under the door.”

Jerry makes a noise of agreement, and Dean thinks he can make out the blurry silhouette of his hand flapping goodbye.

His hand is on the doorknob when the kid speaks:

“Are we still friends, Dean?”

Something catches in Dean’s throat. A hot thickness gathers in his nose, behind his eyes. He can’t think what it is, what’s caused it, but has to shake his head and cough before he can answer:

“Sure, Jer.” And he’s going back to the bed, reaching out in the dark to touch the kid’s face. “We’re friends, Jer, I’m your friend.”

Jerry mumbles something into the pillow, and Dean thinks he can hear the smile in his voice. Then he’s snuffling, drowsing, and Dean knows that’s his cue to go.

He waits awhile anyway. His chest feels tight. He doesn’t cry, and if he does, it’s quiet, secret, and it’s over quickly, shoved away, forgotten, so he can leave and lock the door and return to the party with eyes that are only slightly reddened.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really here, just posting and leaving.  
> I'll come back, though.  
> Thank you so much for reading <3


End file.
